Tea With Regina - Swan Queen
by Lee Austen
Summary: A simple, wide eyed Emma Swan, working in a cafe, ends up catching the eye of a frequent older customer who happens to be Regina Mills.


**A/N** – I was in a café one day, and happened to catch the cashier meeting eyes with a customer. Both of them smiled at each other. The customer's cheeks turned crimson. And then this story came to me.

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She was always a regular customer.

The kind that slipped in, chose that one particular chair by the bookcase and immersed herself in a novel.

I used to think that nothing else in the word bothered her. Those brown eyes seemed dazed after flipping through a few pages. Sometimes she would occasionally glance up as if processing a paragraph of information. But then, the book was returned to and the world disappeared.

She read mystery novels; ranging from James Patterson to J.D Robb. Then I noticed in June that her tastes settled on Patricia Cornwell. By September, she had read the entire set of twenty three and then moved on to Jane Austen again. This time, I found it rather odd, her choice to divulge in the classics. For initially, she had struck me as that kind. But then, a woman of mystery always would surprise anyone. And she was a woman of mystery.

Her name was Regina.

That much I got out of Killian, the guy who owned the café and was my boyfriend for a year. He said that one Sunday when I was off, the two of them shared a cup of chai tea and talked about the weather. Then the economy. Then they drifted into books.

"Then she asked about you," Killian said smiling.

"Me?" I watched him wipe the teacups with a red and white checkered cloth. His smile widened.

"Damn right she did. Seems rather fond of your eyes."

I didn't understand. Not once had we exchanged words. Not ever had I caught her looking at me.

Killian's eyes drifted to the door. It was already five in the afternoon on a Friday and the café was well occupied with about twenty people. Although it was raining outside, bookworms always crawled in from time to time. But she hadn't come as yet. I was well aware of this because of keeping tabs. Silently observing each person like an exhibit in a science project. Neal came in on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at three in the afternoon. Then he left at 6. Will came once a month. Ruby was a Saturday kind of person.

Regina came in every afternoon at five and left at eight. She drove a black Mercedes Benz. She favoured knee high boots but on Saturdays, there were just stilettoes. At times, her tailored suits were swapped out for long sleeved shirts with jeans. But never did she wear anything too revealing. Never.

"I've seen you watching her," Killian broke my daydream to highlight. He handed me two cups and I rested them upon the tray, our eyes meeting. "She's hot, isn't she?"

But then he would think so first. He was a man and she oozed sex appeal.

I shrugged, trying to seem oblivious to the truth. "She's okay."

"She's bloody well interested in you," he said and this time, I stared at him, as if doubting him. Because I was doubting him. It couldn't be the truth. He was pulling my leg and I hated that. "Don't believe me?" Killian asked smartly. "Then wait and see. Sooner or later, she's going to ask you out. But what I think," he leant in a little closer and I didn't twitch because we were long past that phase. "Is that you should ask her out first. Surprise her."

"I'm not going to do that," I said, turning up my nose and frowning deeper.

"Because why?"

"Because you're having a go at me and it's ridiculous. And I know you like to make fun of me. I'm not going to do anything like that." I collected two more cups from him and just then, the bell tinkled and in she came.

At first, my heart, I believed, skipped a beat. Not because of what he had said to me. But because she was elegantly dressed in black. Wearing a long black trench coat, with a black knee length skirt and black stockings. Her brown eyes stood out even more as she came in with 'Pride and Prejudice' tucked under one arm. In that moment, I thought of Mister Darcy and Lizzie. Because she was a woman of mystery, just as he was. Her composure was firm. She was cut from stiff cloth, as my mother would say. And I found myself admiring her again, on a deeper level.

"Go on," he urged, giving me a nudge.

I collected myself, focused on the job at hand and remembered that we were out of decaf at the counter. Shaking my head as he smirked at me, I dragged my feet into the back room, hoping to linger there a little longer until Killian nestled himself at the desk in the corner and August returned to the cash register.

In a manner of speaking, I wasn't precisely gay. Never had been into women. And I mean never to the point where I dreamed of sleeping with one. The appeal of a man was more enticing. Maybe his opposing buildup was attractive, where a female seemed familiar already. But who was I to judge when I had my share of one night stands, seen the same abs and muscles and packages? I was just being rather rude about it and I was well aware.

But the truth is, there never was a woman who directly hit on me. Like she came up to me and flirted. Killian used to tell me that I had admirers but I doubted him, simply because his existence was a joke.

Returning to the front of the café, I began to process orders that came in frequently since it was Friday. There was no time to even study her. I occasionally glanced in that direction but as always, she was immersed in her novel.

Time flew by that night, as it does when you have many things to do. Then it was eight and for some odd reason, I missed her exit because August and I were talking about Three's Company.

I remember it as clear as ever now. Me, leaning over the counter and feeling my heart sink just a little that I had missed her heading out. At times, I wished that our eyes met. But she never looked at me. Of course she wouldn't find me attractive. I was as plain as anyone could get. With my blonde hair tied up high, wearing those red shirts and black pants that served as uniforms with my name tag. Ruby would draw anyone to her like flies. She had what it took. But not me.

So there I was, feeling self-conscious about myself, and then is when I noticed that she had left her book behind. On the table. The red covered copy of 'Pride and Prejudice'.

At first, I thought to myself that it was a figment of my imagination. She wouldn't do something like that. She never did, after reading in the café for five years. Maybe a lot was on her mind? I didn't want anyone to steal her book. So naturally, I slipped around the counter and collected it, shocking myself by how I handled the book itself. My fingers, lightly brushed the front cover, almost as if the item itself was throbbing with so much worth. When I returned behind the counter, I stood there gazing at the red velvet.

Then, just out of being amazingly curious, I lifted up the front cover and peered inside.

There was a note. On a yellow sticky. I glanced around, noticing that August had returned to the comics in the newspapers. Killian had gone off somewhere. So I was alone to digest what was on the note, neatly written and of course, enough to steal my breath away.

 **Emma,**

 **You have bewitched me, body and soul.**

 **Sincerely, Regina.**

It was off the bat shocking. To say the least. I hadn't been expecting that magnitude of confession. At first, I thought it was a joke. So naturally, I smiled but nervously because I had read the book. Two times in high school. I knew of the weight attached to Darcy's words when he told Lizzie exactly that. But why had she written that to me?

We had never talked to each other, had we? She came in, and she sat there without looking at me. Then she left. How on earth had I been able to have such a grand effect on her? Body and soul?

I know that perhaps anyone could misread something. Believing that it meant as more than it initially was supposed to. But this didn't rub me lightly. You see, as much as I had never been attracted to a woman before, I had grown fond of seeing her. Of knowing that she came in and we weren't that far away. And when I studied her, everything about this particular woman dazzled me.

It wasn't just her habits that got under my skin. But the way she smiled occasionally when reading. The way her fingertips rested on the top of the book. She engrossed herself in another world and stuck with it for three hours. So how had she even enough time to see me?

I found myself taking out the yellow sticky, and folding it neatly, I tucked it into my back pocket for keeps. Then on the shelf below the counter, I placed the book for when she returned. Little did I know that it was all part of a game.

She skipped Saturday. Something that never happened. And something that turned me into a nervous wreck because I kept checking the door just around five for her. I was working through those orders and mentally prepping myself for her entrance. But she never came in. When it was eight and almost lock up time, my heart had curled into a corner of my chest out of being terribly disappointed.

Not with her. But with myself.

Who was I to even jump into this heart first and expect anything else? People had a way of playing games with other people. They left bread crumbs and the foolish ones followed. I had taken the bait and was expecting something that wouldn't come. So naturally, I shook my head, decided that it was all for the thrill of the moment. And I headed home that night, feeling heavy and fatigued.

The next day, I was cleaning out the coffee machine when August called out to me.

"Just give me a minute," I said absentmindedly, knowing to myself that he was most likely reminding me of an order.

"It's kind of important," he said from behind.

"Yeah well," I settled on explaining to him that orders couldn't be served without fixing the machine. But then as my eyes rested on Regina by the counter, I clumsily dropped the mug.

It rolled away on the ground, made of plastic and never shattering. But still, my mind shattered. My nerve endings were shooting out sparks as our eyes met for the first time and I felt rooted to the spot. She was looking at me. My gods, she was actually looking. At me. And she was smiling.

Swallowing hard, I went to the counter, and weakly pulled out the book from under it. Then when I was in the process of handing the novel to her, our fingers brushed and for the first time in my life, I felt what it must feel like to initially become connected to someone. Through the meeting of your hands. It felt…explosive. Like a little storm beginning from where she touched me and travelling all the way through my hand until my heart received a shock and I was speechless.

"Thank you," she seemed composed. Her hand lingered and then, she took mine into hers. Those brown eyes seemed to contain a little fire that grew. "Emma."

The way she said my name shouldn't have been so climatic. In fact, I felt as if hating that one word for such a long time would never change. Until she said it. My name rolled off her tongue and I melted because of the way she was looking at me. As if I was the only shiny thing in the room, the most dazzling and nothing else mattered but me.

I didn't know what to say. August was looking at me. So was Killian. But words never came. So she let go of my hand and gave me a little smile before returning to her corner. The small space where she sat comfortably for three hours whilst sipping on her coffee.

"Way to go, mate," Killian said to me when I returned to the coffee machine. I felt so ashamed of myself. My eyes burned. He nudged me playfully. "You really gave away how mesmerized you are by her. I think she got the message loud and clear."

I felt so weak. These things didn't happen to me. My bad experiences in the love department had toughened me to a point where no one got in that easily. They couldn't get in. But she had found a back door and crawled in so smoothly, I couldn't gather myself together and had to take a break earlier than expected.

Sitting with my face buried in sweaty palms, elbows resting on weak knees in the alley behind the building, I was reduced to a mushy ball of emotions. It was the way she looked at me. No one, not even Killian had ever looked at me like that. People had a way of listening without connecting. I never held onto their habits for five years so they didn't matter. But she did.

She mattered because when you grew to know things about someone as I had learned about her, there was this kind of connection that never faltered.

My mom used to say that things happen for a reason. And if they don't happen immediately, if they are bound to happen, things do happen. Was this a revelation unfolding? That I had been studying her for such a long time, possibly hoping to become acquainted and now the time had come? But in what way? Were we supposed to be friends or not? Did she see me as more than a friend?

When I returned to the café, Killian had slipped out to meet a business associate. August was flirting with a blonde by the cash register. And since everyone was served and contented, I was left to sit alone by the counter. If it hadn't been for her completely shaking me earlier into a shattering state, then I would have fallen of my stool. Because just as soon as I decided to sit there and stare into space, Regina slowly rose up, as gracefully as possible. And bringing along her book, she approached me.

I watched her sit upon the stool on the other side of the counter with a purpose in mind. Obviously she was a determined woman. Her movements never faltered. She moved with grace. And I, on the other hand, was reduced to a pile of shaking and clattering clump of nerves.

"Seems like the rain wouldn't stop," she said in that husky voice of hers, resting her book upon the counter. A brief glance was thrown at me and then she chose to gather those red polished nails upon the space between us. Twelve inches, it was. That space. Twelve inches between us.

"Yeah," I said, trying to hold my shit together. "Seems like."

"It's terrible outside."

She hadn't left the chair for over two hours. How could she possibly know what the weather was like out there? Me, having returned from the outside had only noted the overcast sky, signaling a storm. The rain had been staying at bay. But there would be a storm. As sure as I was, of her quickly making it clear that this was just the journey to a friendship and nothing more.

"You look rather pretty today," she said to me in that husky voice.

I bowed my head. "Thanks."

"Care to…enlighten me on whether you're an angel or not?"

I lifted my eyes to meet hers and smiled. "I try." I shrugged. "Are you an angel?"

"I'm a very bad girl," she said, smirking. "So bad, I don't wear matching socks sometimes and I switch my perfumes up every week."

I laughed.

Regina collected her coffee cup and sipped slowly, eyes focused on the door as someone pushed in. It was Ruby, all bundled up in a long red coat with dangerously high stilettoes. She always wore stilettoes. No matter what the weather was like. I admired that about her. She moved around in those babies easy enough whilst I felt like a giraffe every time I wore heels.

I watched Regina check her out, as blatant as possible in front of me. Those brown eyes scanned the taller brunette from her eyes all the way down to those knee high boots. And as her chest heaved, I finally felt the verdict reach my heart. That this was just a friendship deal. And nothing more. Because why would she even fall for me? Me? A girl who worked in a café? And the worst part of it was actually feeling my heart sink because I had hoped that for once in my life, someone important and attractive would fall for me.

What was I thinking?

I sighed, slid off from the stool and worked on an order for Ruby. She was having the regular. Decaf. Sugar. A little extra milk. And a finger of vodka. The book under her arm was a copy of IT by Stephen King.

Feeling Regina's eyes on me, I worked slow but steady on Ruby's order, hoping that my separation from the brunette's space would somehow change her mind about me. Would somehow give her the opportunity to check me out, as she was checking out Ruby. And as I did the order, I heard my mother's voice in my head, loud and clear. She always used to tell me that if someone is giving the eye at someone else whilst you're there, then you're not a priority but will always be the second best and an option.

I figured that at some point in life we all realize that we'll be second best. To a video game or a job. Their family comes first. Or a parent. Something always comes first whilst you come in second place. And most times, it's okay. But in this case it was not and there I stood hating myself for even desiring to change anything about her.

Ruby collected the coffee with a smile and a thank you. She chose a seat in the back and I decided to ditch my apron for a new one. Perfect excuse to head towards the back anyway.

What was I doing?

No. Really?

I had abandoned her, sitting there, staring at me as if she was waiting on something that obviously was not needed from me. After all, what should I sit down and start a conversation on?

"The books she has read? What job she does? If she likes take out or to cook for herself?" Killian had found me in the back, shying away by the back door. "Ask her anything and get the convo going, mate. Take her to your place. Shag her. Or better. Let her shag you. Then maybe," he traced a line across my jawline with his finger and I batted it away, "I can suggest a threesome."

"Asshole," I said scowling. And snatching up the apron, I flung it over my head as I headed to the front.

But for some odd reason, by the time I got there, Regina wasn't anywhere to be seen. She had gone out, half an hour before her usual time to leave. And I was devastated. Knowing that my actions had obviously warranted something to change between us.

For days ahead she didn't speak to me. She never looked at me when she came in. I kept staring. It was so obvious that my mind was going totally insane and the guilt trip was being taken. For goodness sakes, I had a very sexy woman in my clutches and I had managed to push her away. To such great lengths that she refused to even acknowledge me, even when I delivered her coffee to the table.

It pained me to say this, but Killian had been right. Striking up a conversation like a normal human being should have been the right thing to do. Instead, I had labelled her as someone totally not worth my time because she had checked out Ruby.

On the seventh day of her ignoring me, I decided to do something about it. I took her coffee over and slid into the chair obliquely opposite. The table had her handbag on it. There was a fluffy cat as a keychain. I took it between my fingers and chuckled.

"So you're a cat lover. So am I."

Regina barely lifted her eyes, without even meeting mine. And she let out a long sigh. "Yes."

"I have one back home. My mom loves them. We used to have three but one died from old age and the other had to be put down."

She blinked slowly. "Must have been painful."

"It was," I said, trying so hard to push my nerves aside so that the words could fall out of my mouth. "I cried. I'm that emotional."

"Are you really?" she narrowed her eyes at the page and flipped it to the next one.

"I…" I inhaled deeply and felt a twang of pain inside my chest, "really am. I see you're reading Stephen King. Kind of hardcore."

"Well horror," she said in a level tone, "eats away at my heart when it needs to be disciplined. Horror cages my heart and sets my mind on fire."

"Why do you want to cage your heart?" I blurted out.

Regina barely glanced at me and sighed. "Because it has a tendency to behave quite out of order at times."

"My oh my, what have you done this time?" I smiled a bit, trying to tease her.

Instead, she returned those brown eyes to her book and continued to read. Although there was a ghost of a smirk on her lips, it seemed to me that she was completely trying to block my existence out.

"Look, I know that I've been pretty unfair when it comes to having conversations with you," I said nervously. "See the thing is, I'm kind of not good at this."

"One slowly eases their way through small talk," she said, allowing our eyes to meet. "Finding common grounds to relate to. Perhaps you might like something I detest. Or vice versa. We digress or…we can argue in soft tones. However," Regina gazed at me intently, "eventually the precipice is reached where we hit a topic on a passionate note. Therein, the conversation could last for…hours."

I was impressed.

"So…let's try this again?" I suggested with a small smile. Killian was boring holes into the side of my face from behind the counter. Obviously August had coupled up with him to scrutinize my moves in the game of flirting.

"Yes. Let's." She actually slipped a leather bookmark with her name in black ink upon the material into the novel. All attention rested on me now. "Shall we begin with a cup of tea?"

Bummer. "I'm kind of on duty, and I'm not supposed to drink a –"

"Two cups of tea coming up!" Rang Killian's voice. Immediately, he sprung up and began to pour the warm liquid into large cups when I finally realized that the smaller ones could have been used instead. It wasn't surprising that Killian opted for the larger saucers to perhaps lengthen the conversation I was now to share.

I rolled my eyes and sighed.

Regina was studying my face intently with a slightly amused expression. "I take it that your mind is in sync with the eye candy behind the counter?"

"We go way back," I studied her face for any hints of admiration for Killian. There was none.

"Rolled around in bed too?" she smirked.

"I know this place. Just around the corner," I said, sucking it up. "Bella's. It's a cozy restaurant. Let's have dinner."

Regina was obviously impressed. Her lips slightly parted. "Am I being asked out on a date?"

"Yeah. You totally are. How does tomorrow sound?" I was winging it. I was pushing myself, adrenaline kicking in and my god, it felt great.

Her chest swelled. "Tomorrow sounds fantastic," Regina was terribly flustered now. "Can six work for you? I like to eat early."

"To make room for dessert?" I winked at her.

Regina's fingers curled upon the table. She widened those brown eyes. "Wow. Okay. I'm…speechless. Loving this bold streak of yours. And by all means, I'm looking forward to dessert."

"Done," I was about to rise up from my chair when Killian rested the two teacups in front of us with a broad smile.

"And biscuits," he planted a tray upon the table and bowed, a hand behind his back. "Do enjoy."

I took one, made with chocolate chunks and bit into it, whilst staring at him. Slowly, he backed away as if my look was threatening.

Therein, began the chain of events that would lead somewhere, perhaps promising. If not, then of course I would have this café and its memories to return to. For she was definitely a jewel. The kind of woman that didn't stroll into my life with admiration for someone like me often. And I was prepared more than ever to keep her for as long as I ever could manage.

x


End file.
